All Paled In Comparison
by ThickerThanLove
Summary: My second Young Justice story. This one is a little add on to the episode "Failsafe." However, I wanted to see more of the mentors' reaction to this and their attempt to aid their proteges with it. So, here is Flash's reaction to the all-too-real hell of a training exercise. And he is not too happy about it. T for some of the language and the content.


_All Paled in Comparison_

_Characters are not mine, used without permission just for fun. Well, everyone has to do their "Failsafe" aftermath story in this fandom and this one is mine. Rather than focusing on the team interactions though, I thought back to the premise of the exercise: to see how the team would cope in a no-win situation without the support of their mentors. I'd appreciate any feedback. I do reference a few things that take place in "The Flash" comics but nothing that you should not be able to follow._

Picking at the food on his plate, Wally took a hefty sigh. The Cave felt so…dark. It felt empty, it felt lifeless, it felt dead.

He really hated that word.

With the aftermath of the training exercise, the team had scattered for the moment. Batman had vanished not long after the exercise with Robin. That had not surprised Wally. While Robin had kept his composure immediately after they had awakened, it was clear to anyone who knew him well (and Wally did) that he was more than a little shaken. Batman was no fool. He had probably taken him aside to help him sort through it.

Kaldur was still here but he was keeping to himself. He had gone out to the ocean, using his home as his coping method. He could understand why too. It was something to immerse yourself in, to make yourself forget by forcing all these other images in your mind.

Superboy, well, Wally really wasn't sure what he was thinking. The guy had been so cold and emotionless ever since. He had just gone back to his normal every day thing. However, he supposed he could understand that. He was known for using denial for what he went through. It was a Speedster's common defense: run.

In fact, the only reason he wasn't running right now was because it was raining. Rain made it harder to control himself. He didn't quite have the traction his elder did when it came to rain, snow and oil so he would have ended up just sprawling across the landscape. Road rash was not a fun thing to live through; he'd been there, done that.

Eating was his second choice. He was sure he would hear it from the others in the next few days for clearing out their sweets cabinet but it was better than nothing. So far, he owed them a vanilla cake, a sheet of gingerbread cookies and three cartons of ice cream. Plus, the plateful of chocolate pie he was currently working on.

M'gann was sharing the kitchen with him currently, though they had hardly said a word to one another. He had not tried to put the moves on her once, though usually it would have been in his nature to try any possible way to get her attention.

Not right now.

M'gann had spent a few hours with her uncle before diving into cooking. So far, Wally had lost track of how many recipes she was attempting. Some smelled decent, some smelled good, and some he was trying to ignore the smell of.

Artemis…well, she had left.

She had gone home they assumed as she had not said where she was going, just that she would be back. Though she had not gone through the hell her teammates had, it was her death that had spawned the hell they went through, though through no fault of her own.

Artemis wasn't exactly the touchy big-family connectedness type. Wally could relate somewhat. With his parents, he was the same way. There was a distance between them that no amount of trying could close. They were not overly emotional with one another.

Now, with his Uncle and Aunt, he was Mister Wear-My-Heart-On-My-Sleeve. He purposely spent as much time over there as possible. Every school break and summer, he was at his aunt and uncle's, which was where his carefree attitude and nature blossomed, was fed and grew.

However, he was with his parents most of the time. Winter break, thanksgiving break, fall break, spring break, and summer break were his favorite times of the year but the rest of the time, he was with his parents, where he stayed a little more reserved and emotionally distant.

He assumed Artemis was the same way; hence the thought that her loss had caused such a downfall in the team was probably more than just a little unsettling. People in her type of situation were not used to depending on others or others depending on them, let alone having an emotional attachment. It had probably sent her own emotions on a roller coaster ride.

He could relate.

Wally had not expected such a strong reaction to her death. However, while that was the key piece of it, it had not been the only element in the equation of his emotional torment, at least from what he could see. It had been...the trigger. But it was hardly the entire explosive.

One thing that it seemed even Black Canary had miscounted was that when M'gann had turned everything from simulation to real, it did not apply from the moment of Artemis' death and onward. It had also made any memories they had of the simulation's previous events very real. Upon the moment of Artemis' death, anything they had previously gone through shifted from numbed and detached to close and personal.

Think of it like a delayed reaction. Wally had experienced one of those his first time out as Kid Flash. During the mission, he had been shot with Cold's freezing gun in his left leg. It had felt like a blast of pain but then nothing. He had continued with the fight as best he could from where he was (which mainly involved getting a good left hook in) and it was not until after the battle, when Flash had helped him limp away that the pain cut through his body.

That was what the simulation had felt like. It was as if the pain had been dulled up until the moment of Artemis' death and then had been released in all its glory. All the pain that they should have been feeling prior was suddenly released with no holds or bars and no means of controlling it.

All the pain…the loss of the safety of their planet, the loss of their freedom, the loss of the Justice League...

His uncle. Killed saving his aunt.

His aunt, trying to keep the world informed so they would not live in fear. Killed not even a few minutes after Flash died protecting her, making his death all in vain.

His uncle and his aunt. His parents in everything but blood. In many ways, they were what kept him going some times, always offering some more of support when his own parents failed him. His mother and father would smile at his odd life but he could tell they didn't like it. He could tell they thought his hero dreams and his scientist dreams were far-fetched and unattainable, something they reminded him of frequently, hoping he would as his father so poignantly put it 'take a hint, Wallace.'

He refused. He had the ability to make a difference, he knew it, he knew it! He doubted himself in so many ways, so many times, despite his façade of arrogance he put on. When his parents got on a rant of sorts about how those dreams were wasting his time and he would be much better off becoming a teacher (he could teach science if he was so adamant, his mother insisted) or something 'reasonable,' he would always run to his aunt and uncle.

His aunt…always waiting with a smile when he came plowing through their front door, grinning and leaving a mess in his wake. Laughing when she told him not to eat the cookies so fast or he'd choke. Teasing gently when he didn't wiggle from her embrace. Pouting when Wally informed her that the clothes she so graciously bought him had not been in style for five years. Breaking out in a grin when Wally wore them anyway. Calling Wally from her cell if she was out of town on assignment just to make sure she told him goodnight, even if it was three AM where she was.

His uncle…listening no matter what time it was even if he had to go to work in two hours. Teasing him gently that he didn't want to hear him whining from a stomachache when all those cookies caught up to him. Not mentioning said threat when he wound up rubbing away the belly pains about three hours later as they lay on the couch together. Fixing his tie before his first school dance in Junior High and reminding him that despite how fun it was, girls did not appreciate it when boys chose to fling their cufflinks at them as a sign of affection. Carrying him up to bed when Wally collapsed from a late night mission on the couch and never forgetting to give that small kiss on the temple.

All those times he held close to his heart. They gave him strength and courage when he needed it the most. Then, to all of a sudden, have all that security ripped away from him, in the blink of an eye…

He closed his eyes tightly and pushed the plate in front of him away. It was empty anyway. Standing, he carried the plate to the sink, dropping them into the soapy water. He usually would have let some kind of machine clean them and God knew that the Cave was more than well-equipped but washing by hand kept his hands busy and that diverted his attention, which diverted him from thinking.

Right now, thinking was bad. If he started thinking, then his thoughts went to the mission—no, the simulation and to the loss of everything worthwhile in his life. He didn't want to think about it. After all, it was just a simulation right? Everyone was safe.

Well, he hadn't seen his aunt or uncle yet. As soon as they were told about the failed exercise, every fiber of his being wanted to go and find his aunt and uncle but he had felt too…well, overwhelmed by everything. And perhaps, unconsciously, he was afraid that the simulation was true and he wouldn't be able to find them.

This was hurting his brain.

"OW!" he winced as the plate in his hand shattered in the sink by his frantic scrubbing. He had gradually been speeding up, rubbing harder and faster until the poor plate could take no more abuse and broke under the pressure. A few slivers of the broken plaster cut his left hand and a large chunk sliced a neat line up his right wrist. "Damn it." He hissed and ran the warm water over the cuts. They bled a little but they were starting to slow already, not too deep. Tossing the shattered bits of plate into the sink, he wrapped them in torn bits of paper towel before retreating to his room.

While only Miss Martian and Superboy actually lived here, they all had little rooms here. In case missions ran over a course of several days primarily though occasional injury and late night returns played a factor as well. His was large, mainly because he could not stand small spaces. He had found that out when he was ten, after he had gotten his speed, discovering that the little blanket tents he used to play games in now felt suffocating.

Uncle Barry had merely laughed and told him that he just had to make them bigger. Aunt Iris' face when she came home from work and saw her whole living room turned into one big play fort had been priceless. She'd then proceeded to take photos of Wally clad in his red pajamas and a red towel wrapped around his head as 'Flash' chased 'Captain Cold' through the old abandoned military base. The ten-year old had leapt off his uncle's chest when he saw her with the camera and tore after her, saying "No way, Aunt Iris! Give me that!"

Barry had held their little 'Flash' hostage long enough to get him re-involved in their little make believe game and give her enough time to put the dreaded polaroid somewhere secret. According to Iris, she still had it somewhere. Wally had just told her as long as it was not on the web somewhere…

Shaking his head, Wally flopped down on his bed. What good did looking over old memories do? All it did was make him think about what he lost when the…miss—NO! The simulation! SIMULATION!

_Get involved in something else_, he told himself._ ANYTHING ELSE!_

Digging under his bed, he found his abandoned science book and cracked open its pages. He skipped the pages they were on; he had read them already and skipped to the ending chapters on nuclear fission and fusion, on the hydrogen bomb and the atomic bomb. Complicated, multiple factors to consider and quite complex and involved study for most boys his age. He liked a challenge though and that meant he had to focus on it. He had to really focus on what he was reading to understand and process it. So learning about the fission reactions in the bombs…though he probably didn't need to be reading about things that went 'boom' after that miss—_simulation! Damn it, Wallace_, he berated himself, _it was a SIM-U-LA-TION. As in, not REAL_!

Grasping at his side table, he tore his ear buds from the top and crammed them deep into his ears. Not bothering to look, he grasped his iPod and hit 'Play' spinning the volume control until it hit its max. It made his head pound but that meant he was not thinking about it anymore. Hell, he really couldn't think about anything anymore and if he laid here for very long, his ears would start to pulse and ring. For the moment though, as he focused his eyes on the words of his text, even as the screeching of Linkin Park filled his ears, he was grateful he couldn't think.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Black Canary was not easily unnerved. It was something both inherent to her personality and the result of years as a superhero. She had faced Blockbuster, Deathstroke and more villains than she could recall, a majority of them not even her major nemesis. She devoted herself to remaining calm and able to predict her opponent's actions, motives. It had served her well, enabling her to take down opponents more than three times her size and strength, a trait she tried to pass onto the younger generation in training.

That being said, she currently found herself face to face with a very different adversary: a very livid Flash.

Anger and Flash typically did not go together. He was known for being very laid back, very easy going. A young Kid Flash had noted the man was 'like a duck' because things just rolled off his back. Very little got under his skin, which enabled him to handle a great variety of opponents. As true as that may be though, it was always those with such personalities that carried such potential for explosion. Kid Flash had remarked he had only seen his uncle very angry a few times and only one time in battle. That had been against Zoom.

Now, however, Black Canary found herself and Red Tornado cornered by a Flash who was anything but happy. He didn't pace, he stood perfectly still. There was no laughter in his eyes, only betrayal, anger and hurt. His body was tense, defined. He didn't yell, his voice was calm, quiet, and dangerous.

She was officially unnerved.

"Flash, you know the simulation was not meant to go awry" she stated firmly, crossing her arms. "It was an unprecedented situation. Martian Manhunter is working with M'gann now to make sure we don't have this issue again. The Team was never meant to believe it was real."

His dark focused eyes bored into hers, making her feel a bit uneasy. "You HAD to kill off the Justice League?" he asked her simply.

Taken by surprise, she uncrossed her arms, placing them on her hips, no longer feeling utterly challenged but baffled nonetheless. "…well, yes. It was designed to be a worst-case scenario, Flash."

"An unwinnable one?" he replied, crossing his arms in kind, his voice still cold.

"They tend to be impulsive" she replied "We felt a dose of possible reality woul—"

"Of course they're impulsive." He interrupted, poison dripping off his every word, though it was hardly directed just at her. She just happened to be the focus for the moment. "They're children."

"They are also fighters" she argued. "They work under the label of Justice League and they have carried it well. We would be doing them a disservice to not prepare them for—"

"Do you also prepare someone who is petrified of snakes by tossing them into a rattlesnake pit with no rope?" he asked. "Or maybe it's your style to throw someone who can't swim off a boat into the sea, with a 'good luck!'"

She narrowed her eyes at him, "Look, Flash, I take my training of the Team very seriously—"

"And you think I don't take Kid Flash's training seriously?" he inquired. "I do. Ask him if you feel like you need to but I'm a hard ass on him during training. I have to be because I know what can happen a lot better than he does. I know what he needs to learn." Here he focused his dark blue eyes on hers, again. It was becoming very unnerving the way he would suddenly just zero in even further on her face. It was intimidating. "I also know what he's ready for. I also know the support that he needs."

"Flash, you cannot expect the Team to come to us for every problem" Red Tornado finally deemed it appropriate to cut in. "They will not learn to be independent fighters in their own right"

"For every problem, no" He agreed "But for major problems? Major issues? Hell yes, I expect Kid Flash to come to me! I've trained him to know he CAN come to me."

Black Canary placed a hand on the man's tense arm "Flash, what about the scenarios where that won't be an option?" she inquired simply, not accusing, simply opened minded. "That was the purpose of eliminating the Justice League.."

"Except the Justice League isn't just partners and friends to them, Canary!" he interrupted her. "I know it can be hard to remember sometimes but as much as they preach it, they are NOT adults. Their minds DON'T work the same way. Their minds DON'T require the same thing that ours do. They don't process like we do." At this, his forehead wrinkled in deep thought and focus. "And a lot of those kids have already seen enough hell. The Justice League is not friends and coworkers to them" he repeated, slowly, enunciating each word carefully. "The Justice League is fathers, uncles, aunts…parental figures." He focused his eyes on her. "You serve as our resident counselor Canary, so tell me this: which will cut a child's psyche more? The death of a friend or the death of a parent…and in at LEAST one case, the death of a father twice?"

She was silent a moment and the atmosphere felt heavy, almost suffocating. Still, she responded calmly, if tersely "Yes, I am aware—"

"And you chose to go ahead with this anyway?" he asked her again, his voice was wavering, barely containing his obvious anger and frustration "I thought we agreed we would train the boys….and girls" he amended, "to the best of their ability but also maintain THEIR safety." He growled at Canary again, a dangerous look that very few ever saw that she had been receiving consistently for almost five minutes "Mentally tormenting my nephew does not count as maintaining his safety."

"Flash" it was Red Tornado again this time. "Your history states that you have a tendency to be overprotective."

"Fine, guilty as charged." He told him in response. "But torture is wrong no matter who you do it on and no matter what your intentions were. Torture is outside of my moral code." He eyed the red android with a darkened glance "And call it training all you two want to but it was designed to mentally throw them into a scenario where they would feel lost and unsure what to do—"

"They were learning about a war-like situation, Flash" Canary intervened again. "Eliminating their closest form of support was—"

"Cruel, unusual, unnecessary, cold" he spat at her. "I understand your reasoning, Dinah" he hissed, switching to her civilian name. "But if you wanted to see how they fared without our aid, have the Justice League captured. It isn't unlikely and it removes our resources from them." He eyed her again, "Actually, hell!" he amended, never having been the type to be afraid of changing his mind (it came with the territory as a CSI agent), Flash threw his arms up in disgust "You know what, no, I'm not going to go along with that because it's a stupid idea! It always WAS a stupid idea!" He informed her seriously and with passion attached to every sound wave of his voice, "Removing their resources was a stupid idea. Removing the Justice League was a stupid and –_cruel_—idea! Throwing them in an unwinnable situation was a torturous, cruel, manipulative, cold, and STUPID idea!" By now, his voice had risen, just a bit, to echo some off the cave walls but he made no motion or attempt to lower it. "We're their mentors!"

Red Tornado made an attempt to interrupt with some of his logic once more, "Yes, and the scenario was a necessity to teach—"

"To teach what?" Flash interrupted, turning his radiant eyes from Canary, much to her unconscious relief, and settling on the Android Hero who found himself experiencing a bit of anxiety in connection with his relative safety. "Tell me that! What the HELL was that scenario supposed to teach? It was cruel, unnecessary, even without them believing it was real" he clarified, establishing that it was the exercise itself he had a problem with, not the disarray that occurred. "An unwinnable scenario? Watching their mentors and families destroyed in front of their eyes? Watching their world blown apart piece by piece? And then…THEN slowly picking them off one at a time, so they could watch one another DIE?" he roared, his hands clutched so tightly into fists that his entire torso seemed to shake.

Red Tornado took a moment then responded "The realities of the fighting lif—"

"You know what Tornado?" he interrupted. "Just…please, just shut up."

Silence followed. Flash thought it necessary to explain himself.

"You think on logic and I understand that but this is NOT something you can understand based on logic. You have to understand emotion." He took a shuddery breath to calm his nerves. "And until you've taken a child under your wing, shown them you're going to be there to teach them, correct them, guide them…then you cannot understand this." He shifted his gaze back to Canary. "A mentor's job is to guide, to correct, to teach, and to protect when it's necessary. But never, ever is it their job to step back and say 'here's a situation you've never encountered before so I'm going to remove myself _**entirely**_ and let YOU figure it out despite you having little to no tools to work with. Good luck, sucker!'" He stepped so close to her that their noses would have touched if he moved another half inch. "A mentor does not abandon his protégé and I don't give a damn whose bright idea this was. Never again, hear me? You have an idea for a training exercise, outside of the normal one-on-one sparring; you clear it with ME before MY Kid Flash goes into it."

He took a step back to give her some room and did not even wait for her reply. The tone of his voice made it clear that argument with him on this issue was fruitless. Black Canary did admit that a lot of his points made sense and that infuriated her. She loved to believe she did a lot of thought before she did any type of training exercise, especially one this elaborate. She remembered Batman's initial reluctance and while her reasoning back then had made sense, now…well, now, she really wished Batman had talked her out of it. She did not like to admit she had made an error but now, even more so now than when the children had just woken up, she found that fact rubbed into her face.

She had messed up and it had been a colossal disaster. True, she had not acted alone; Red Tornado, Martian Manhunter and Batman had all agreed to it but…she was in charge of training. That was her primary function within this team, to create and organize training techniques and lessons. The blunt of this blame was hers, at least in her mind.

Still, she straightened herself upright and stalked from the room, one hand on her hip towards her own private chambers. She felt the need to look at some counseling techniques and re-familiarize herself with which ones worked best with a younger mindset. She had a feeling in the pit of her stomach that the younger team would need it.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOO

_ No!_

_ No, he sped up, his feet slamming against the pavement with such a rapid speed that even the well-designed spandex began to give way to smoke and tear. He was close; he was so close that the fire from the explosion burned his face. He was so close that the blood erupted all over his face, staining his cheeks. So close that he saw one last glimpse of the green and blue eyes as they stretched hands out to him. Hands that withered into muscle, blood and bone in the split second it took him to reach them. Hands that crumbled when he still tried to wrap his fingers around them._

_ No! Aunt Iris! Uncle Barry! _

_ NO!_

His eyes shot open as he jerked awake. His ear buds tumbled from the sides of his head to dangle around his neck, no music erupting from them anymore. He had not put the iPod on loop after all. His book had long since hit the floor. At some point, he had fallen asleep apparently and his book probably hit the ground when he slumped forward. Stupid! He-

"Wally."

The tone was gentle, soothing. He didn't look up though. No, he wanted to believe but what if he looked up and it was so cruel trick of his ears? Damn it, he was being ridiculous. He knew it had been a simulation which meant his uncle was fine. Which meant his aunt was fine. Which meant the voice talking to him was really his uncle. Which meant that if he looked up, he would see his uncle's face all in one piece with no burns or cuts or bones sticking out and no silent gasp of fear and pain.

It was absolutely stupid to keep staring at the red and yellow threads on his comforter.

It was stupid and-

"Wally." A hand slipped under his chin and stroked the cheek bones gently as they eased his head up, forcing his eyes to focus on what was in front of him, rather than what was on his bed. What his eyes met was the face of his Uncle Barry, his cowl down and bunched around his neck so Wally could see his bright blue eyes.

Which were full of understanding and comfort and love and were still so much alive.

Not dead.

Not burnt in their sockets the bones crumbled away into the heat and flame.

Not still shedding tears as they tried to protect his wife.

Alive.

Alive

Alive

Relief swept over Wally like an ocean wave. The knowledge that the simulation had not been real was now affirmed by his uncle's presence. Even seeing the others, even seeing Robin when he first awoke had not driven that message home, not completely. But now, for some reason, his Uncle being there, talking, touching his hair with that gentle motion he was known for…now, everything began to fall into place, clicking piece by piece. With every action his uncle did, a bit of reality seemed to snap into truth with his head. By his uncle's voice, so gently whispering that he was okay, that his aunt Iris was okay, that everyone was fine. By the gentle stroking of his uncle's thumb against his cheeks where dried tear stains still made the skin itch. By the smell of coffee and laboratory cleaner, with a touch of his aunt's favorite air freshener that always clung to his uncle's clothes, no matter what they washed them in.

Now, his brain performed some simple equations: _Okay, mission was fake, you were scared people were dead, this proves the deaths did not happen. You are relieved_. **You are not alone**.

"Un-uncle?" he stammered out, hoping and failing that he sounded more dignified than he felt. He must have sounded scared and all stuffed nosed and crying and..and..and..

And his Uncle was alive. He hadn't been taken away from him. His security, closest confidante and …and he was alive!

"UNCLE BARRY!"

Locking his arms around his uncle's neck, his weight nearly sent them both to the floor but Barry managed to catch himself with one arm as they tumbled off the bed and onto the cave floor. Settling himself a bit, he grasped his nephew in a tight embrace, stroking his messy red locks with one hand while the other pinned the boy close to his side. "Shh, yes, Uncle Barry's here."

Wally didn't respond, just sobbed into his uncle's insignia, choking down his more 'babyish' words for a little bit but unable to maintain it for long. After a few minutes, he was babbling like some type of drunk, sobbing.

" . 'tthereandyouwerenevercomingb ack-"

Barry didn't try to get the boy to stop. It was good that he was babbling, good that he was crying, good that he was clinging so tightly that Barry felt his uniform give in a few places under the boy's grip. The boy was frightened and rightly so. There was no reason for him to have to see the things he saw, to hear the things he did. Not without reason. If it had truly been a mission, then something would have been accomplished, something would have been achieved but as it was? Pain for the sake of pain? No. He saw no justification for that, no matter how you looked at it. He was sure there was some other reason for the way the exercise had been executed but as he had explained to Black Canary, and without biting her head off _entirely_, he could not see it and as far as he was concerned, the damage had been done to his protégé.

"I know" Barry spoke out gently, letting the boy bury his wet face into his chest again. "I know and by God, I'm sorry, Wally."

The blond haired man laid his cheek on top of the boy's wild red hair, taking a deep breath, trying to just let his nephew rest against his embrace. He knew Wally was a prideful boy; pushing him to talk would only result in smart aleck answers and forced bad jokes. Barry had learned that a long time ago, before the boy was his protégé and was just his nephew. It was something he and Iris seemed to understand but that Rudolph and Mary forgot on occasion. So whenever a serious issue came up, he would go to talk to Wally because he knew that the talks with his parents would never achieve what they were supposed to.

Glancing down at his sobbing nephew, Barry felt another knife of guilt into his heart. He had been reluctant for Wally to be his sidekick not for a lack of belief in the boy's ability. No, he supposed it was far pettier than that. He had seen things as Flash that he had never even seen as a police officer, things that still made his stomach churn even today. Wally had such a bright outlook on life; he had been afraid that seeing the kind of things he would see as Kid Flash would crumble that. He had been trying to spare the boy's innocence, to keep him safe. Too often he came home to Iris with bruises he did not even remember getting, given the intensity of the battle. Each time, she would bite her lip in worry before applying ice and small kisses to the wounds, even if his hyperactive healing was already taking effect. It caused such wear and tear on HIM, on an adult body; he had not wanted to imagine what it would do to a smaller, fragile little frame like Wally possessed. He'd never been a very big boy. Still wasn't.

Ultimately though, the desire to see the joy in those boy's eyes had overwhelmed his fear over what might happen. He had surrendered, given in. It was hard not to when the child had figured out, on his own, how to replicate a laboratory experiment with just brief notes and junior high knowledge of chemistry. Said experiment had landed Wally in the hospital for a week and needless to say, his family, both immediate and extended, was hardly pleased. When he had finally agreed to let him be his sidekick, he had been stern. He still was on certain topics. You would not think it, given his laid back personality but he was. Training was fun and serious but there were certain rules, both spoken and non-spoken, that you just abided by and Wally had learned that swiftly.

There were certain things he didn't do and certain chances he never took. As he grew older and wanted to branch out, to become a more independent fighter, he had broken his Uncle's number one rule on fighting, for the first time in his life: no unapproved missions. Cadmus had not ended well for him. He had not merely been lectured on it though that would have been enough. Flash was always very precise in his lectures but never condescending. His theory was that every mistake was a chance to teach and give Wally a chance to learn. He may have told Wally in battle to listen and do exactly as he said but he was not above explaining his plans before if he could and after if there was no time before. The Flash, as well as Barry Allen, had never been fond of the 'because I said so' excuse. It never seemed to quench a child's curiosity and often just increased any already present desire to discover on one's own.

All these reasons were why he was constantly punching himself over that training simulation. He had trained and raised Wally to question, to not be afraid of questioning authority if there was logic behind it. Yet, when Black Canary had told him they were trying a more intense training sensation with the team, he had never questioned it, he had never—

"It's not your fault, Uncle Barry" his nephew's tear choked voice cut into his self-defeating thoughts.

Blinking, he looked down at the boy who still clung to him tightly and still kept his face buried in the man's face. In fact, most probably would not have understood his demand because of how muffled it was but Barry had memorized all his nephew's little 'accents'; he knew everything from 'talking-with-mouth-full' to 'embarrassed-beyond-belief-and-not-going-to-admit-itese. "Wally-"

"I know you're doing your what-if and should-have game." Wally responded, finally moving so his temple was resting against the Flash insignia, making him a big easier to understand. "Isn't that what you tell me not to do?"

Barry stroked his nephew's bright hair, "It's my job to make sure the training is—"

"Isn't Black Canary in charge of training?" Wally interrupted, saying, "Unless I heard Big Bat wrong."

"She's in charge of training the team." Barry confirmed, lying back against the wall, still with his nephew cradled in his arms, occasionally stroking his hair back. "But Flash is in charge of Kid Flash."

Wally shifted his eyes upward towards his uncle, tears still staining his face but he couldn't stand to see that horrible look in his uncle's eyes. Guilt. It was one thing to feel it himself but it was agonizing to see that look in anyone else's eyes, especially someone close to him. "But Kid Flash is part of the team." He reminded the man, though he still nuzzled a bit deeper into that red uniform that still meant the world to him. "And Black Canary is part of your team, right?"

Barry tightened his grip on his nephew significantly. "Yes."

"And" Wally added as he finally made himself sit up though he stayed close enough that his uncle's arm was still wrapped tight on his shoulders. "If she's part of your team, you trusted her, right?" he replied. "I mean, would she have done it if she had any doubts?"

"Not purposely." He replied "But she can't think of everything—"

Wally raised one brow at his uncle even as he rubbed the wetness from his eyes, "And you can?"

"When it comes to you." He said without hesitation. "I know you inside out."

Wally would have argued but quite frankly, he didn't have a good argument. He would wager his uncle and aunt knew him better than his own parents did, better than he did. But he didn't want something like this to make his uncle think he could not be a part of the team. His pain was still very fresh and it was a sucker be that he would be having nightmares on it for a while but it would not be the first time a mission did that. No different. No different at all…

Sure his friends had seemed to have died but they were alive again…no, they had ALWAYS been alive. And his mentor was still alive.

His mentor…his uncle.

His father in everything except blood and title.

Still, it was not his uncle's fault any more than it was Canary's. He took a shaky breath, using the moment to reestablish again that his uncle was indeed breathing by giving him a strong embrace. His uncle responded instantly but wrapping his arms like a steel vice and giving him a kiss on the forehead, something that most teenage boys would revile but not Wally. Especially not now. It was more of that tactile reassurance. That knowledge that it had just been a simulation. A really bad simulation and it was a really bad training and..

"I trusted her." His uncle spoke out again, confirming his nephew's assumption but at the same moment, it seemed to be an accusation to himself, a condescending 'how could I' kind of remark.

"You have to do that on a team, right?" Wally countered, even as he focused on memorizing his uncle's scent, the feel of his arms. Just in case, he could feel his brain telling him even as he screamed back that there would not be another chance to need a just in case but the mind was stubborn, especially his. He tried to focus back on what his uncle had said and completing his sentence, "That's the first thing you and I established." Wally took another breath. "And your team is the freakin' Justice League, Uncle Barry! I mean, the kind of trust you guys have probably made over all those missions! The JLA! Batman, Green Arrow, Atom, Green Lantern, even fucking Superman—"

"They pale in comparison to you." He responded in a calm tone, rubbing his nephew's shoulders.

Freezing in his uncle's hold, he shifted his eyes up; meeting his uncle's serious blue eyes with his wet green ones. "Huh?"

"They pale in comparison to you." Barry repeated simply, stroking his nephew's stray red hairs from his eyes. "I would rather have Kid Flash at my side than any of the Justice League. Kid Flash knows how I operate. He knows my morals, he knows my moves, he knows my enemies, he knows my strengths, he knows my weaknesses. But most of all, I know Kid Flash has my back. I never have any doubt in him, even for an instant. I know he'll always be there for me." He eyed his nephew gently and added "As I hope he feels the same because God knows I try my best to never let him down."

Wally eyed his uncle, awestruck. Him, before the Justice League? He never thought he was that important or that influential. Still, his uncle's statement demanded some type of response so he tried to steady his tongue enough to generate one. "You...never have." He replied finally, if a bit lamely. "You're always there." He tried again, lying on his uncle's shoulder once more.

He refused to think back on the simulation. That was the only way for the simulation to explain Flash not coming to his aid. He would have to be dead before that happened. Killed trying to give them the best advantage he could, taking out as many enemies as he could while they stayed behind in the Cave until—

"It was unfair of you to be ripped of that." Barry interrupted his thoughts, keeping his voice level but Wally could still hear the emotion in it. "Unfair to have that security just torn out from under your feet. Not so soon and not like that." He laid his forehead on top of his nephew's "And I promise you, I won't let that happen again."

Wally bit his lip. Every piece of his male bravado told him to protest, to claim that he did not call on him like some little child but …well, he could not argue with plain facts. And the fact was pretty simple: that had been nerve wracking and honestly was probably the hardest part of that simulation. Knowing he no longer had his uncle to call upon. He remembered absent mindedly pressing his communicator multiple times in the simulation, trying to get a hold of his uncle, even after they had seen he was…

Maybe he was getting too old to be doing that but it was a security he still clung to as much as he could. Did he still try and handle things on his own? Absolutely and with great pride. He marveled at all the feats he was accomplishing and how strong he was becoming but in the back of his mind, he always remembered that if he needed to, he need only call. Flash would ask no questions and make no accusations. He would simply come. It was something he had told Wally when he had first started to train: 'if you ever get in over your head, you call for me.'

Maybe the other superheroes had a hard time understanding that but that was the way the Flashes worked. Kid Flash would come to Flash's aid, Original Flash would come to their aid, they would go to his, and it was a continuous circle. Flashes were independent and yet interdependent. They were one another's lightning rods, their supports, their saviors.

So, perhaps it hit Wally harder than it would have hit the others to have that simply taken away. Perhaps he had a reason to be a bit more disturbed than most his age.

So…maybe it was okay that he wanted to just lie here for a while in his uncle's arms and simply remind himself that his uncle was still alive. Maybe it was okay to bury his face into the man's chest and cry a little bit more.

Maybe it was okay to not want the comfort his team might try to give to one another.

Sure, he was supposed to be developing a relationship with them and he was. He was learning to trust them. They were learning to work together, to work in unison, to rely on one another. They had begun to mesh, to understand but..

But right now? After that virtual reality hell?

He closed his eyes a moment and almost immediately felt the horror of that simulation come back at him. He nearly felt himself start to tense up but then reminded himself _"No…you're not alone. They aren't dead. NO ONE is dead."_

Forcing his eyes to stay shut, he just focused on the rhythmic breathing of his mentor and the way it made him rise and fall gently. He focused on the warmth of his breath as he held him close and focused on the gentle stroking of his fingers through his sweaty red hair.

His team was great, don't get him wrong but…as he wrapped his arms around his uncle and felt the man tighten his arms in return, encasing him in a strong protective hold, he said softly to himself.

"They all pale in comparison."


End file.
